


Praise Be

by Hoodoo



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Aftercare, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Filthy Praise, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Vaginal Sex, Woman on Top
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-11
Updated: 2018-07-11
Packaged: 2019-06-08 19:51:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15250791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hoodoo/pseuds/Hoodoo
Summary: Praise makes Doofus flustered, but you just can't help it.





	Praise Be

“Oh—that’s _good,_ baby, right there—“

The tongue never stops, lips continue to suck. Fingers tighten in hair.

“—now, just a little more, a little more—oh shit! Oh _fuck!”_

Rick’s blue eyes flick up to yours. He doesn’t use foul language, but you can’t help it here in the bedroom, with him genuflecting on his knees before you, worshiping your pussy. He puts a little more pressure on your clit and your head falls back for a moment as you moan.

The second your head drops, he stops.

Hiked up on an elbow, you look down your body at him, on the floor.

“You’re so good at that,” you pant.

“Mmm,” he replies wordlessly. His mouth isn’t technically on you anymore, but he’s still so close the vibration makes you squirm. “G-good At-at what?”

If he were any other guy, you’d think he was fishing for compliments to inflate his ego or teasing you. But with Rick—he’d introduced himself as Rick Jay-19-Zeta-7, which you thought was an odd name for someone to saddle their kid with, but even weirdos became parents—you’ve learned it’s not a ploy. He genuinely wants to know.

So you continue.

“You’re so good at teasing me—you’re so good at making me feel good!” 

His slow exhaled breath tickles you. It hitches, like he’s embarrassed at your praise.

“You—your tongue is wicked, and-and you lick my clit just how I like it, just how I-I-I _need_ it—“ 

Rick’s the one with a natural stutter, but he reduces you to it. His eyes drop to your pussy for a moment and that tongue slips, thick and heavy, through your folds again, before he looks back up at you once more.

“L-l-like that?”

“Yes Rick, fuck yes—“

Two bright spots of color erupt high on his cheekbones. He repeats the action and you shudder. You also know he’ll continue like that for a long time, if you let him. 

“Rick, you’re so good at t-that, please, don’t stop—use your fingers too, oh god—“

At the invitation, he pauses for a second to pop his first two fingers into his mouth, to wet them, then eases them into you as he laps at your clit again. 

“Oh-oh—just like that—oh—you’re so fucking good at that—“

His fingers are buried to his knuckles in you; you can tell by the feel of his thumb and the outside of his hand against your inner thighs. He continues to use the tip of this tongue to run little circles around your clit—you moan that he’s doing it right, just like you like—and occasionally stops to use the broad part to just hold his tongue in place, which always makes you fold in the middle at the ecstasy.

“Rick, please, please—curl your fingers, curl them inside me—“

He obliges and the sensation sends you flying up over the pinnacle of pleasure. Your legs want to close but his shoulders keep them apart as waves of bliss wash through you. He stops moving but stays in place, just like you’ve told him you enjoy in the past, until your muscles unclench.

When you drift back down from your high, he slowly extracts himself from you and gives you a grin.

“How-how was that?”

You focus on him with laser-like intensity. Sometimes you’re not satisfied. Sometimes you want to glut yourself on him; his attentions are heavenly but you want more. Plus you know he hasn’t gotten off, so that just fuels the fire. 

“Come up here,” you invite, and scooch yourself backwards fully onto the bed. 

Rick clambers up beside you. 

When he’s there, on his knees, you twist towards him and pull his erection into your mouth. He never seems to know what to do with his hands; one flutters down onto your shoulder but the other you have no idea of until you pull back and look up him. He’s covered his mouth as though he’s ashamed or concerned he’s going to make too much noise. 

You’re not having any of that. 

You let him go and push him so he topples backward onto the bed. You climb over him.

“I want to make you feel as good as you make me feel,” you announce. 

“You-you do! Anything you do makes me feel good!”

You consider this. You could suck him off; you know he likes that. You could just give him a handjob and you know he’d love it just as much. He always acts like you’re bestowing this incredible gift by touching him, even when you’re the one who feels like you’re reaping a majority of the benefits.

“Let’s do this,” you say, but don’t actually inform him what you’re thinking as you go up on your knees above him.

“I-I-I—I l-like it when, when you’re on t-t-top,” Rick whispers. You can almost feel the heat of his blush as he admits it.

“Mmm-hmm, I do too,” you agree, as you reach between your legs and stoke him. “I like it when your cock is slipping inside me, you have the perfect cock, you know?”

His hand goes back to his mouth and he mumbles something in an embarrassed tone behind it.

You grab wrist and pull it away, threading your fingers through his and pushing his arm up and back so it’s flat on the mattress. You keep your hand in his, leaning forward a little, which puts you closer to his face. 

Indecently, you say to him, “I love your cock. I love when I’m on top of you, and I settle down on it. It feels so good, your cock in my pussy—it fills me right up. Sometimes I like to just stop there and wait, but then the sounds you make and the feel of you inside me is too much, and I just need to fuck you—god, it’s perfect—“

Spellbound at your words, Rick is very still below you. You continue to stroke him, and lean a little more downward to kiss him, swiftly, on the lips. He can barely respond, and you chuckle.

Your lips curve in a quick smile.

“Let’s do this,” you repeat, and you still don’t tell him what you’re going to do next, but you angle his cock to exactly where you need it to be and lower your hips.

When the head of his cock just nudges your opening, it seems to startle him back to reality.

“No-no, wait, I’m not wearing a condom!”

“I don’t want you to,” you tell him, and push downward. He fills you, like you said, and it feels glorious.

Rick gives a long, drawn out moan. 

“Isn’t that n-nice?” you stutter with a laugh.

“Ye-yes, yes—oh!”

You roll your hips and he breaks through his own words with another moan.

“It _is_ nice, I love it like this, just you and me, you feel so good inside me,” you continue, fucking him slowly, letting the sensations build on each other. They’re growing exponentially, this warmth in your belly and you want to keep it going as long as possible with deep, deliberate thrusts. 

Tonight you can’t keep from telling him how incredible it feels, either, even though it flusters him.

“Rick, your cock is so t-thick, I love the way it feels,” you tell him, groaning periodically in between words. “Feeling you filling me up, feeling you-you so deep in my cunt—“

You squeeze around him, and that plus your filthy praise makes him squirm under you.

The movement sends shockwaves of pleasure through you.

“—do that again, do that again, Rick—oh yes, oh _fuck_ you feel so good in me—fuck fuck fuck—“

You’re almost at the peak, just a moment more and you’re going to lose yourself in the almost overwhelming bliss—

Rick grabs you so hard it hurts and forces you to stop.

“Wait-wait-wait—oh! Oh!” he says in a strained voice. His eyes are closed and a look of extreme concentration is etched on his face. “W-wait, give me a sec-second, it’s too much, I’m going to . . .”

“Going to what, baby?” you ask. You try to make it light, like a tease, but he’s stopped you with his cock buried in you, and instead it comes out as a needy groan.

“I’m going to . . .” He doesn’t like to say the words, even though you encourage him. 

Your pussy clenches around him again and he yelps, 

_“I’m going to come!_ Give me a-a second, give me a-a-a m-moment—“

But you don’t. You were so close, chasing that high again, you don’t want to wait and you don’t want him to either. 

You lift your hips and bring them back down, once, twice—smoothly, that sweet ache of release beginning to blossom in your gut—

Rick howls and his hands drop to the sheets to twist them tightly. Planting his feet on the mattress he shoves his pelvis upward, into you. The move tips you and angles your own pelvis in an unexpected, intoxicating way. That, plus the sensation of his cock pulsing and filling you with his ejaculate sends you over the edge and you cry out with him.

For several seconds the two of you are locked in orgasmic delight. 

You’re still relishing it, as a matter of fact, when a worried hiccup of a noise makes you focus on Rick again. 

That concentration that’d been on his face has been replaced with a deeper fluster and mortification than you’d ever seen on him before. 

“Rick? What’s wrong?”

“I-I-I, I—I . . . c-came inside you!”

You almost laugh, but hold it in check because he seems truly ashamed.

“I didn’t mean to,” he babbles. “I didn’t mean to—I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry—“

“Rick, Rick, baby, look at me!” you insist, because he’s slammed his eyes shut.

He does, reluctantly. “You-you have to get off m-me. You have to-have to go . . . clean up.”

You don’t. “Rick, I’m not mad! I’m not upset you came inside me! I loved it! It felt so good!”

He’s not convinced; you can tell. 

“Rick, baby, feeling you in me, knowing that I made you feel so good that you came in me, fuck, that’s so hot. You made me come, did you know? Did you know I came because of you doing that?”

“N-no,” he whispers. That seems to cause more guilt to stab him. “I’m sorry I didn’t know you or-orgasmed—“

You aren’t having any of that. “Rick, it was so good! It was so hot! I loved it. It is not a problem.”

He starts to relax. His cock, becoming soft, slips from you. Because you’re still on top of him, a gush of wet follows. That reminder of his perceived faux pas makes him tense again.

“Come on,” you tell him, throwing a leg over him and scooting back off the bed. You grab his hand and tug a little bit. “Let’s go.”

“Go where?” he mutters. One of his hands covers his face; another indication he’s still embarrassed.

“We’re taking a shower. I’m going to soap you up and rinse you down. Maybe you’ll do the same for me?”

You’ve bathed together before, and he’s always enjoyed it. He peeks at you from between his fingers. 

“Well?” you ask.

“Okay.”

Rick pads after you into the bathroom. You kiss him and murmur it’s all okay, that you loved it, that you didn’t regret it, that he didn’t do anything wrong. You can see he’s still red-faced and flustered, but you hope the small ritual of cleaning will make him feel better. 

_fin._


End file.
